Lowman: A day in a field biologist's life

Monday

Aug 9, 2010 at 12:01 AM

Meg Lowman

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. EXPLORE, DREAM, DISCOVER.

-- Mark Twain

6 a.m. -- Alarm clock rings. Still dark, a dawn chorus of hornbills announces sunrise in Nagarahole National Park near the remote village of Karapura, India. Struggling from my cocoon of thin blankets on a wooden cot at the Kabini River Lodge, I fumble for khakis, the uniform of field biologists. The air is chilly but exhilarating. We are here on a mission -- to survey big cats, and discuss their conservation. Our location, the Western Ghats of southwest India, is one of 25 global biodiversity hotspots, where many species are concentrated in one place.

6:15 a.m. Two Indian waiters knock, bringing tea and biscuits as a morning wake-up. Ants swarm on my doorstep, enjoying the crumbs dropped from yesterday's biscuits. I dance to shake them off my bare feet.

6:30 a.m. Still shivering in darkness, our team of four Indians and one American jump into a Land Rover. Along our track, women haul water in plastic jugs from the village well to their thatch huts. Wood cookstoves send small spirals of smoke into the sky, announcing breakfast.

6:50 a.m. Our noisy vehicle passes under a mango tree where two guards peer down from their thatched treehouse. In their eyrie, watchmen guard the village livestock and crops from marauding tigers and elephants.

7:10 a.m. Shivering in our open-air vehicle, we bump along rough tracks with our five senses on overdrive. Sometimes the guide hears a birdcall that translates to "danger," providing us with a clue to the location of a predator (translation: big cat).

8:13 a.m. Our driver screeches to a halt, whispering, "Listen." A female sakir deer shrieks. Success! In the canopy above sprawls a leopard, chewing its fresh kill of a fawn. The laws of the jungle are tough, and one hesitant step by a mother and her offspring resulted in casualty. Taking several hundred photos, we are honored to witness this noble denizen of the forest eating breakfast. Leopards, like tigers, are rapidly declining throughout India.

9:15 a.m. Seeing two more leopards but alas no tigers, we hastily exit from the forest jungle to the "urban jungle." No time for a shower, I pack in two minutes, and quickly gulp a few mouthfuls of traditional Indian vegetarian fare.

10:10 a.m. On the road, bound for airport and home. Indians think nothing of a six-hour taxi drive, dodging goatherds, oxcarts, village children walking to school, bicycles groaning under enormous loads and rickety buses. I ration my last remaining gulps of bottled water, and gasp from the truck exhausts through our open windows. My mind struggles with the abrupt transition from oxcarts to jumbo jets over a six-hour time frame.

4:45 p.m. Domestic flight from Bangalore to Mumbai delayed. I frantically queue to find another flight. Luggage is nowhere to be seen.

8:30 p.m. Late arrival to Mumbai's domestic terminal leaves a meager two hours to make an international connection approximately 12 miles away. Miraculously, my suitcase appears on the belt. Attempts to hail a taxi fail -- the queue is over an hour long. Against better judgment, I squeeze aboard the inter-terminal bus by 9:15, leaving one slim hour before departure to New York.

9:35 p.m. At the international terminal, passengers stampede through a narrow gate, frantically waving passports and boarding passes. Suitcases are flying; the air is rich with expletives; chaos reigns.

9:45 p.m. At the Continental check-in, a ticket agent whisks me through. Will I make it? Dripping with sweat, I look feverish and a health officer stops me for a swine flu check. Running, I board last. I sank into the plush seat with sheer ecstasy; the 16-hour flight was bliss.

Experiencing the transition from forest jungle to urban jungle, I muse at our definition of "civilization." With over 75 percent of human beings now inhabiting cities, field biologists remain a minority who would rather confront leopards in the green jungle!

Note: Our columnist, Dr. Lowman, was recently featured in The Oprah Magazine for an article titled "Say Yes to Life!" about women taking risks.

Meg Lowman, longtime Florida scientist/ educator, is now establishing the nationally acclaimed Nature Research Center at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences, with its mission "to engage the public in understanding the scientific research that affects their daily lives." Web: www.canopymeg.com